


The True Meaning of 'Friend'

by RAW_SYNTH3TICA



Category: The Lone Ranger (2013)
Genre: Angst, Friendship/Love, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAW_SYNTH3TICA/pseuds/RAW_SYNTH3TICA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While John is trying his hardest to find the right time, circumstances, & everything messy - to tell Tonto how he feels, they have yet to understand the emotions which seem to build & themselves for being unable to.<br/>Tonto makes a decision to let his friend go if they can't seem to build a relationship they think they might not have.<br/>*follow up from 'Baby Steps'*</p>
            </blockquote>





	The True Meaning of 'Friend'

**Author's Note:**

> ALL IS FICTIONAL & NOT MINE

The very next few days of the calming monsoons washed away hazy railway smoke and the seemingly bad luck, John fully clothed for whatever may come- emerged from the teepee Tonto had shared with himself for the past two weeks, he stretched and drew in a deep breath as he walked across the soft red sand to a log downed by nearby floods, the scrubby white bark stripped away leaving a soft spot for anyone to sit. He watched as women and children foraged for plump sour red berries among the thorn brush from which they grew, behind were the sounds of men chattering their language strategy for hunting elk and small game for their own children to learn skinning and proper cooking. Even the horses themselves were busy kicking up great gusts of copper sand as they tumbled unto their backs, squirming this way and that to rid themselves of fleas and biting flies; all the camp was busy except himself and his unseen partner. 

A hand tapped him on the shoulder, snapping John suddenly out of his thought as he met his friend smiling ear to ear for reasons unknown, Tonto without explanation whistled, from the herd came prancing the mustang yearling, the little head playfully nudging John on his elbow in passing, Tonto patted the strong neck and shoulders, asking, “Remember him?” 

“The colt. Tonto, how was he healed?” the ranger left the log and appeared at the colt’s opposite side, he gently patted the colt’s solid chestnut coat and hanks of black hair whispering freely with the wind, he searched out with his hands the wounds that were now fully healed scars, the short hairs slightly raised upon the welted skin, he proclaimed quietly, “This is amazing!” 

“I know who would love this colt!” John smiled warmly, but Tonto’s eyes raised from the colt’s shoulder; being as it may how he could have given the colt to any of the people of his tribe, yet could not object since John also helped in healing the young animal, “Danny would be so happy.” 

Tonto’s smile dropped completely from his face, he brushed past John and saddled up Silver, his motions bordering cruel yet gentle, he led the fully saddled Silver to a stop before John and led the colt along whom had bonded with the white horse days before, the tracker simply said, “Come then.” 

John was left to wonder what he had done to offend his riding partner, Tonto on the other hand felt a cold fury like no other strike him in the heart, an icy frost so bitter he was nearly paralyzed the moment he felt it, he was ever more angry at himself for being helpless to say ‘No’ to his only friend, to deny him anything the happy White-Man asked of him. Onward the tracker went with Silver’s bridal in hand, the mustang colt dancing on the hot dunes behind John, his heart mourned the fierce bitter tears he had yet to understand while his face remained stone-impassive and his body became rigid and unwelcoming. 

The territory gradually became familiar to John, he glanced about the scrub-spackled ground and saw over the hill his first love’s home, Rebecca stood at the clothesline pinning skirts, trousers, and shirts to the line. A small, cheerless smile spread over John’s face, his mind unable to keep his memories from warming to the first person who held his heart and broke it just as easily, Tonto in turn handed the bridal to John and turned away to the trail from whence they came. 

John took Tonto by the arm, he asked, “Where are you going?” 

“You, Kee-Mo-Sabe-” Tonto peeled off John’s arm, he then held up both hands before his waist, palms outward and pushing, then John understood clearly, he finished the name of his sign language, “-stay. Go home.” 

Already, Rebecca came running in her skirts with her two work hands and Danny at her side shouting ‘Uncle John!’ 

Once more the cold stab shot through Tonto’s chest the moment he glanced from Rebecca’s overjoyed face to John whom looked as if he regretted smiling, the last pull of his then-pale now sun-baked cheeks disappeared. Tonto understood then the emotion he felt, and the cure to keep himself from ever having his chest hulled out again, he began his long trudge through the sand dunes back to his tribe, and to most likely have the woes of the world married to him instead of an eligible young lady. It was good business for a man with no true home to go back to. The true meaning of love dawned on him along with the bothersome weight he carried in his head; being together was to have the sun never set, being apart was to have an incurable sorrow tear him of his honest and proper thinking, all he knew seemed to be scratched into the air and reluctant to come back down. In his mind, there appeared to be no word with the same meaning equal to ‘lover’ as there was for ‘friend’, because it signaled the budding of a friendship which would then lead to the sharing of their souls if ever luck deemed fit to grant him his only wish. 

The colt followed after only to be chased away by Tonto while his heart wept in place of his dry eyes, he went on with his heavy spine and weightless arms until the sand swallowed him whole and John was unable to look on after for the stupid crow and long, black hair which whipped about the mirthless wind, almost mirroring Tonto’s emotion. 

He despised himself for not running after, for not speaking in his partner’s language so that they may understand each other more fully, yet he stayed like the man unable to weaken his grasp with the past and abandon all burdens to lighten his step toward the future he wanted the most. John kept himself from trailing behind like a lost soul searching for nothing, a child crying helplessly for their dead mother, without Tonto he felt as hollow as a song without music, a voice without sound,… a man without his wife. 

‘What was That just now?’ John lost his bearings as Rebecca drew him down for a kiss, he could not find it within himself to push her away nor run after the long-gone tracker. 

Was it just days ago he had been told he was Tonto’s only ‘friend’?

**Author's Note:**

> alright, i'm sorry for another thing the internal joke about using the word 'Friend'. Depending on the tribe, you Never Ever use the word 'friend' (Example: 'We're just Friends' - another no no) which is seen by the person's peers as to strongly imply 'We are Dating' or 'We are having Sex' or 'We are engaged'. It's been seen as a joke to me, & i'm sorry for not sharing this earlier. :P  
> you know who you are if you understood this joke~  
> also, the places I have been describing are real, i'll soon add pictures as soon as I go back out to the places I have been mentioning, just so you have a stronger sense of the setting.


End file.
